Little White Lie
by AlexisPryce
Summary: W/F: Lying is easy when you've got Wolfram & Hart on your side. *Spoilers for "Home"*
1. Normalcy

Ch. 1 Normalcy  
  
Everything was fairly normal. Well...as normal as things can be when you live in Los Angeles these days. Fred sat at Wesley's desk, flipping idly through a book of ancient languages. Wesley went to work cleaning and repairing some of the things around the Hyperion, hoping to get it ready for renovations and possibly resale. Gunn stocked the weapons cabinet, adding a thin coat of polish to each of the broadswords, daggers, and battle axes. In the basement, there were distant clashes of metal and the agonizing sounds of fists connecting with a punching bag, as well as several other objects. Angel had been training down there for several hours, upset about something. He kept talking about someone named Connor. No one knew what he meant, just figured something had gone wrong at the meeting with Lilah and disturbed him. He'd let them know, eventually.  
  
Cordelia was her old self again, gawking with horror at her choice of evil clothes and accessories. She swept them up into her arms and tossed them in a dumpster, which was lying in a suite, ready for new renovations.  
  
The door to the Hyperion opened, sending rare sunlight into the lobby.  
  
"Hello?" a voice echoed through the hotel. Everyone stopped and looked up.  
  
Gunn was the first to respond as Wesley climbed the stairs. He smiled at the elderly couple who had just entered the room. "Hi, Welcome to Angel Investigations. Can we help you with something?"  
  
The old man raised his eyebrow and looked around, seeing no one. "I suppose you could help me. Who are you?"  
  
Gunn shook his head, giving an anger-controlling chuckle. "Sorry. Charles Gunn. Most of the staff is busy right now. How can I help you?" He looked at the little old lady and noticed a frightened expression on her face.  
  
Cordy came down the stairs and rushed up to the clients. "Hi, I'm Cordelia Chase. Are you new clients of ours? We do help the hopeless." She felt like she was once again trying to start AI.   
  
"I'm looking for a young man. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce." He scanned the room, looking over Gunn's shoulder, "That is, assuming that he's still alive."  
  
The old woman frowned, but remained silent.  
  
For the first time, Gunn made the connection. "Ah," he glanced at Cordy, giving her a knowing look, "you must be Wes's dear, old..."  
  
Wesley leaned over the banister and into the lobby, "Dad."  
  
-  
  
The man stared at Wesley a long time before saying anything. He made a small gesture, prompting his son's immediate descension of the stairs. Not another word was spoken until everyone had cleared the lobby and Wesley stood alone, eye to eye with his father.  
  
"Well, you've certainly been...Americanized."   
  
Gunn, who sat behind a column upstairs, snorted.  
  
The man began a slow pace around his son. "And still working for that," the next word flew from his tongue quick, as if it were the most profane of his vocabulary, "vampire, eh? How is it that you've managed to stay alive in conditions such as these?" The elder man glared around the lobby. "Ghastly, really."  
  
"It's not so terrible," Wesley said quietly.  
  
Lorne, who had been watching, came down the stairs, humming lightly to himself. Cordelia tried to stop him, but he insisted that he knew what he was doing. He stopped at the bottom step and let out a high-pitched squeal.  
  
"Wesley, darling...you never told me you had a younger sister!" He reached a hand towards Wesley's mother, who blushed profusely. Immediately, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce jumped in front of his wife.  
  
"What in God's name are you? Stay away from my wife." He growled.  
  
Lorne's eyes widened. "Sorry, Cupcake. I forgot my manners. I'm Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan. I hail from the dimension of Pylea." He held out a green, yet perfectly manicured hand. "Call me Lorne for short, please."  
  
Mr. Wyndham-Pryce did not offer his hand in return. "Lorne. Pylea." He simply nodded and turned to Wesley.  
  
"So, you're a loner, living with a vampire, a floozy, some hoodlum, and a demon who's quite obviously a pouff?" He raised an eyebrow. "I should have expected as much."  
  
Cordelia scoffed, but Gunn quietly reminded her who this was. Lorne simply retreated upstairs, his green becoming slightly more red than usual.   
  
"You're thirty-six years old, Wesley Edmund Mathias Wyndham-Pryce. A man at your age should be married with children and a career. You have no one, no job, and you live in...filth." He curled up his nose and turned, as if to leave.  
  
"Father," Wesley raised his voice, "did you come here simply to insult me? London is very far away." He thought for a moment, hoping to find some way to impress his father. Nothing came to mind, it simply went blank. Then, a thought. "And I have a wife...unfortunately, she is de--"  
  
"Debating on what curtains to put in the Master Bedroom." Fred laughed as she entered the lobby. She had been listening for the duration of the conversation. "Hello, I'm Winifred Wyndham-Pryce. It's a pleasure to meet you at last. Wesley has said so many good things about you." For the last two comments, Fred made sure to direct them solely at Wesley's mother.  
  
For once, Wesley's father seemed speechless.  
  
Fred went on. "I'm so sorry you had to see the hotel in such a mess. We're having it renovated before we sell it and move into the new firm downtown."  
  
"Firm?" Wesley's father raised an eyebrow.  
  
With an enthusiastic nod, Fred continued, "Oh Wes, Darling, didn't you tell them?" She laughed as Wesley continued to stare at her. "He's so modest. He's just become the head of the extensive Library and Artifacts division downtown at a highly-respected lawfirm called Wolfram & Hart. Heard of it? We've got branches around the world. I am also the head of Scientific Research and Development, not to mention Forensics."  
  
There was a dead silence.  
  
"No." Wesley's father turned to look at his son. "Well, I guess I assumed too much." He raised a hand, causing Wesley to flinch as it landed on his shoulder.  
  
Wesley's mother broke into sobs and jumped into her son's outstretched arms. She pulled Fred into the hug and held on for dear life. Fred simply winked at her "husband".  
  
-  
  
"Good night, dearest!" Wesley's mother called from the hotel as Fred and Wes prepared to leave.   
  
They both smiled and waved, then Fred turned to him. "I'll call a cab when we get to your place." She looked out the window.  
  
Wes raised an eyebrow. "Oh, well...they'll be there early tomorrow morning for breakfast. You're welcome to stay the night. My couch is comfortable enough. I can sleep on it."   
  
"Are you sure?" She looked at him.  
  
He nodded. "Yes, perfectly. I really don't mind having you over for the evening. They can't possibly stay that long." 


	2. Waiting

Ch. 2 Waiting  
  
Since their arrival a week ago, the Wyndam-Pryces had been staying in a spare room at the hotel. The routine became habit. Sight-seeing and work at Wolfram & Hart in the morning, followed by lunch, a nap for the elder pair, then dinner and tea.  
  
Wesley stretched as he finally had the chance to sit down and get comfortable. Sleeping on the couch was making his back stiff and the fatigue from being complained to was getting to him, but he wouldn't dare say anything.  
  
He raised the teacup to his lips and smiled. "How long are you staying?"  
  
His father frowned. "Sadly, only another week or so."  
  
With a sputtering cough, Wesley choked on his tea. Fred quickly patted his back and went to get a towel.  
  
"Can you excuse me for a moment?" Wes asked, rising from the table.  
  
Fred was wringing her hands in the tiny kitchen.  
  
"Fred, what are we going to do? We can't keep this up for another week! Someone will blow it any time now. We've got to make sure to tell the others the story we've been telling, or they'll screw things up." Wesley nervously rubbed his nose.  
  
Fred's eyes grew wide as Wes spoke, then she pointed towards the table.  
  
Cordelia and Gunn were both chattering lively with Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham-Pryce.  
  
Both rushed out towards the tea party, towel in tow.  
  
"...yes, the fire was awful, but at least they all got out safely."  
  
"Cordelia?" Fred asked, "What is it you were saying?"  
  
She grinned. "Gunn and I were talking about that awful fire that destroyed all of your wedding pictures. As well as your rings." She winked.  
  
Wesley sighed in relief.  
  
"It's a miracle, you know, " Gunn chimed in, "that Wesley managed to save the baby like he did."  
  
Fred sat down quickly and Wesley simply gripped the back of the sofa tighter. "Baby?" She asked.  
  
Wesley's mother grinned from ear to ear. "Oh! First you're married and don't invite me to the wedding, then you have a child and don't tell me for a whole week! Where is it? Oh, what is it? What's its name?"  
  
"Apparently, you're not the only one who didn't know..." Wesley took a seat next to Fred. After a minute, he tried to make it look more convincing by draping his arm over her shoulder. Surprisingly, she leaned towards him. He glared menacingly at Gunn.  
  
"Yes," Cordy continued, "but Gunn, you forgot that Fred doesn't like to hear about little...Con--Carson while he's away at Boarding...Nursery School?" She bit her lip and tossed an elbow into Gunn's stomach.  
  
Wesley shook his head.  
  
"That's my boy," Wesley's dad chimed in, "A young boy should to go Boarding School, teaches character. Surprising, though...I thought you hated Boarding School." He reached for his cup of tea.  
  
Wesley simply nodded and cast another glare at Gunn. He smiled in return, signaling that this game was too much fun to give up. "Oh, forgive me, Fred. I know I shouldn't mention Carson when you're so stressed out from trying to have another one."  
  
Fred passed out into Wesley's arms.  
  
-  
  
A warm, wet feeling on Fred's forehead woke her up. The lights were dim, but she knew she was in Wesley's apartment.  
  
"There you are, dear." A woman's voice said calmly.  
  
Wesley's mother smiled down at Fred. "Feeling better, love?"  
  
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Wyndham-Pryce."  
  
The older woman waved a hand. "Grace. Call me Grace. We're family."   
  
Fred sniffed the washcloth she had just removed from her head and wrinkled her nose. It smelled like rotten fruit.  
  
"It's an old remedy of mine. I'll give it to you just before I leave. There are a couple of secrets that should just drive Wesley wild. As long as you can cook. You can, I assume?"  
  
Fred nodded. "Where is Wes, by the way?"  
  
"Gerald wanted to see the new law firm. He's never been so proud of him. You have no idea. I haven't seen Gerry this happy since...well...It's just a shame that we can't meet little...what was his name?" Grace collected the washcloth and basin as she stood.  
  
Blank. Fred couldn't think of the fictional kid's name for anything. She began talking to cover her loss of memory. "Oh, little..." She coughed into her sleeve. "Oh, he's just a darling boy...you'd love him. Looks just like his Daddy."  
  
"Well...yes, of course." She looked around, slightly suspicious of Fred. "But I must say, this flat seems a little too...bachelor pad. It needs a woman's touch. You must have been busy with sending the child off to school and...well...making the," she thought better of that comment, "...with trying to have a new baby and all. Gunn said you're both trying very hard for this one. The last was a surprise, but now you want a girl. Is that right?"  
  
Fred didn't know what to say. She simply shrugged.  
  
Wesley knocked quietly on the door and walked in. "Everyone feeling better?"  
  
"Yes, she's been telling me all about how you've been trying so hard to get pregnant again...you know when you were six and we decided to try for a girl..."  
  
Wes cringed and headed for Fred, kissing her lightly on the forehead. She wrapped her arms around him and he interrupted his mother as quickly as possible. "One of your strange cures, Mother?"  
  
Grace Wyndham-Pryce stopped talking and looked at her son. "Pardon? Oh, yes. She was awake in no-time." She grinned, then looked towards the door. "Where's your Father?"  
  
"You've got to tell me what those remedies do. He wanted to go back to the hotel. Just let me know when you'd like to go back." He squeezed Fred tightly and awkwardly planted a light kiss on her lips. Automatically, his whole body was on fire. He found himself just staring at her.  
  
A smile crept across Grace's face. She heard her cab outside honking. "I've already called a cab," she whispered, backing out of the room. "Good night."  
  
"Wesley," Fred whispered, swallowing hard. "Wesley, what's going on?"  
  
He blinked his way out of the stare. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." He let go and tried to stand, but his knees wouldn't work.  
  
"No...you should." She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. Her body shook as she kept trying to get closer and closer to him. There was no way she could get any closer. He gently stroked her hair as they laid back on the bed. 


	3. Babysitter from Hell

Ch. 3 Babysitter from Hell  
  
The lobby was nearly quiet. Uncomfortable shifting was accompanied by nervous smiles and the nervous tapping of Cordelia's shoe on the side of the couch.  
  
Gunn raised an eyebrow at Cordy, implying that she stop her foot. Cordelia glared back. "What?"  
  
The doors to the Hyperion's lobby burst open as Wesley and Fred hurried in, late. The lateness, completely uncharacteristic of either party, was something at which Cordelia felt the need to snicker. She stood and headed for the basement after a quick announcement of, "Wesley...you missed a button."  
  
Wesley quickly buttoned his shirt and tried to tuck it in. "Hello Mum, Father." He kissed his mother on the cheek and headed for the coffee maker.  
  
"Wes, darling," Grace said as her son walked towards the kitchen, "your father and I were thinking we'd help you find a new house."  
  
"Yes, we were thinking you should get a new place. That apartment of yours is no place to raise a family. It's only got one bedroom!" He put an arm around Wesley's shoulders. "And we'd like to let you know that you can use our summer home in Nice any time you'd like."  
  
Chills ran through Wesley's body as he wondered if lying was all it would take to make his father happy.  
  
"Thank you, sir, but we don't have enough money to buy a house."  
  
His father frowned and walked back towards Grace as she urged him to offer help with buying a home. Gerald delivered a stern look, which quickly sent Grace into silence.  
  
There was a squeal from the basement. Cordelia came pounding up the stairs, a handful of checks in her hands. She passed them out to everyone, then turned her eyes back onto her own.  
  
Wesley sat on the couch and opened it. The top read Wolfram & Hart, and it was made out to Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Executive Librarian and Artifact Conservator. The amount: $30,000.  
  
"Cordelia," Wes stood, blinking at his check, "where on Earth did these come from?"  
  
She shrugged. "I thought I looked through all of the mail, and then there they were a few minutes ago. Wow...you have no idea how much shopping we have to do, Fred!"  
  
Fred grinned as Cordelia grabbed her arm. "Let's go. Rodeo Drive, here we come!" Unfortunately for Cordy, Fred didn't budge. "What?" She asked.  
  
"Let's take Grace with us. She'd have fun." Fred smiled at Wesley's mother and beckoned her to come along. Without a moment's hesitation, Grace followed.  
  
-  
  
The sun was shining on Rodeo Drive. Cordelia took in a huge breath and coughed.  
  
"Smell that?" She laughed, "that, my dear ladies, is Upper-Class smog."  
  
Fred laughed as they all headed into the bank.  
  
-  
  
Fred smiled at the teller as she slid her check across the counter. The banker wasn't surprised at the amount, but still stopped in her tracks.  
  
"Ma'am," she whispered, sliding the check back, "you seem to have signed your name incorrectly."  
  
With a frown, Fred took a look at the check. She had clearly signed Winifred A. Burkle. She flipped it over and gasped.  
  
"Cordelia," she whispered and waved her over.  
  
She showed her the check, which read: Winifred A. Wyndham-Pryce, head of Forensics and Scientific Research and Development, Wolfram & Hart.  
  
"Did you do this?" Fred asked.  
  
Cordelia shook her head, staring at the check. "No, I didn't tell anyone."  
  
Fred smiled again at the teller, this time more nervously. "Sorry, just recently got married. Not used to the new name yet."  
  
Grace, who had been sitting in the corner, laughed. "You've been married for two years, Love...you've got to get used to it sooner or later."  
  
-  
  
Several hours passed as Gunn, Wesley, and Angel continued to clean the lobby of the Hotel. Wesley's father insisted on cleaning Angel's old office. He sorted the books, placing them in the correct boxes.   
  
"Why, hello, stranger." A tall woman with a sinister smile said, walking towards Gerald Wyndham-Pryce. "I can't say I've seen you before."  
  
The old man struggled to his feet. "Who are you?"  
  
She smiled. "Lilah Morgan. Wolfram & Hart. I used to--I work for your son."  
  
"Oh, yes. Of course." He shook her hand lightly, then looked back at his books.  
  
"So...you're the bastard that kept Wesley in a closet and abused him for all those years." She sat atop the desk.  
  
Wesley's father glared menacingly. "We don't talk about that. And I'm surprised Wesley said anything to you. You're just an employee."  
  
"Ex-lover and employee." She hopped off the desk. "I'm just wondering why you aren't in hell with me." She left the office, heading straight for Wesley.  
  
"Wes, you might want to get that old coot out of your office. He's screwing it all up." She pulled an emery board from her pocket and went to work on her nails.  
  
"Lilah...what are you doing here? I thought they were sending you back after you introduced us to Wolfram & Hart." He put his broom up against a wall.  
  
She shrugged. "They let me do some babysitting occasionally." She grinned. "Mainly on you."  
  
He shook his head. "Lilah, please don't watch me. Just...stay at the office or something."  
  
"You just don't want me to see what you and Fred have been up to."  
  
Angel put down his broom and nudged Gunn. Gunn offered a nod and headed towards the basement.  
  
"It's an innocent lie, Lilah. We're just trying to impress my father, that's all." Wes whispered.  
  
"Oh, innocent. Yeah. What happened last night, Wes? Was that so innocent?"  
  
Shaking his head, Wesley continued advancing towards her. "Leave it be, Lilah. It's none of your business."  
  
"But you're my business, Wesley. I'm the one making your lie look more realistic. The paychecks are just the beginning. I'm helping. Don't worry." With a wink, she disappeared. 


End file.
